January 26th
by Gesca
Summary: Mello and Matt's final conversation together and Matt discovers that Mello has been keeping a secret from him. Written on their anime death date. Rated M for swearing.


Behind the wheel of the stolen delivery truck, Mello was anxiously listening to the news. He had left his best friend behind and was praying that the reporters would only mention his own exploits of kidnapping Takada, and not Matt's involvement.

Matt had been his accomplice and the escorts had chased him so that Mello's get-a-away would be easy on his motorcycle.

Since then he had heard nothing from Matt, not that he had expected to, but it had been several hours since they had spoken. They hadn't gone this long without speaking in months. Dangerous operations they had done before, but this job was the apex of all their missions.

This was the only thing to be done, and if he didn't do it… then who would? Near, the asshole, certainly couldn't do it, and he wouldn't have allowed Matt to take his place.

"As for the suspect who was gunned downed earlier, we're still not able to identify him," the TV said. The reporter continued to speak, but Mello wasn't listening. He saw Matt's beloved car on the screen, mangled with bullet holes and in the process of being towed away.

Mello's heart broke.

"Matt! You idiot! You're not supposed to die!" Mello screamed at the TV, slamming his hand against the steering wheel. "Fuck!" He inhaled a deep shuddering breath and smacked his gloved fist down on the dash repeatedly. "Fuck you, Matt. Fuck you."

"Sorry, things didn't go as planned," the Matt apparition in the passenger seat responded calmly.

"Obviously," Mello replied in a growl "This wasn't a part of the plan, Matt."

"Yeah, so why didn't you tell me that your secret version of the scheme involved you dying?" Matt asked, demanding the answer angrily.

"Just because, you're a ghost doesn't make you privy to my thoughts," Mello said scowling "This is the way it has to be, no one else can do this."

"I can't read your thoughts, stupid. Being of the undead variety doesn't make me omnipotent." Matt said sticking out his tongue. A habit he had picked up while playing video games and didn't have a better comeback to a Mello criticism. "I figured it out, I figured out why you were being especially ambiguous this morning. I came here because I needed to tell you that there's still time, Mells. Just dump the broad somewhere and make one of your legendary escapes," Matt told him.

"That's not an option this time," Mello said brusquely.

"Why not?" Matt inquired abrasively "You fled Wammy's, a place full of geniuses, with only Near and Roger knowing you left. You blew up your mafia hideout while you were still inside, and you escaped, mostly intact other than-"

"She's already seen me, Matt." Mello interrupted, voice raised in order to speak louder than his friend "I took off my helmet so she could see my face." The red head sank dismally in his seat at that information. He looked down at his ruined clothes where bullets had pierced and stained the fabric.

"This was my favorite vest," he grumbled.

"It was your only vest," Mello reminded the red head. "But I don't think you'll have to worry about clothes where you're going."

"Where _we're_ going," Matt corrected. "Right, Mello?" he said turning to look at the blond who didn't respond.

"Mail…" Mello said hesitantly after a pause.

"_Right, Mello_," Matt stressed. "Don't tell me that you forced me to attend church once a week and confess most of my sins for nothing."

"There's something I haven't told you," Mello said bowing his head. Matt leaned forward in the seat trying to see his friend's face around the fall of blond hair and fearing what he was about to profess. "I wrote in the Death Note," Mello confessed finally. "I can't go to heaven or hell." He said vacantly raising his emotionless eyes to try and see Matt's reaction without looking directly at him. Clutching the steering wheel with one hand and using the other to remove the rosary from beneath his clothes to hold the silver cross in his fist.

"Then, these are our last few moments together," Matt said sitting back in the seat, his head hitting the head rest as the confession began to rest in his mind. "I need a cigarette," the red head muttered crossing his arms sullenly. Mello took his eyes from the road to try and see the green eyes beneath Matt's goggles. The red head wasn't going to be accommodating; he turned his head away from Mello being petty in his anger.

"Matt, I put you through hell, the least I could do was give you heaven," Mello tried to explain.

"You already have." Matt replied briefly, still refusing to be candid with Mello. "What good is the afterlife going to be if my best friend isn't there?" Matt asked after a silent period and there was something in his voice, a catch to the words that were higher in pitch.

"Don't do this, Matt," Mello warned him, unable to be commanding with the whirlpool of inner torment muddling his perception.

"I can do what I want," Matt said with a small sob "I'm dead, remember." He removed his goggles when the lenses became foggy. Tears washed down his face clearing paths in the blood and grime on his cheeks.

"Matty," Mello sighed brushing a hand beneath his eyes.

"Why would you do this to me?" Matt asked pitifully with sniffles.

"I didn't want you to die, you weren't supposed to be killed. You screwed up," Mello said irritably. "You're still a teenager."

"No, I didn't," Matt complained. "I told you I figured out your plan. Did you think I was going to let you die while I lived? And my birthday is in six days."

"So you died to save me?" Mello asked shaking his head "How is that working for you, idiot? And no Matt, you're dead, you died a fucking teenager."

"So what? You can't talk; you've only been twenty for approximately a month," Matt grumbled. "But at least our argument over coffee this morning wasn't the final time we would be together." He added a moment later, wanting to stay on Mello's good side despite his frustration.

"No, this is the last time," Mello stated dully, and inhaled deeply blinking his tired weary eyes. "I don't think I'm ready, Matt," he continued after another pause had taken place in the truck cab.

"Not ready to die?" Matt asked tentatively scooting closer, distracted from his anger by the blond's statement.

Mello shook his head, fist tightening around the cross. "I didn't accomplish what I wanted, I didn't surpass Near, and I didn't avenge L's death" Mello said.

"Yes, you did," Matt replied "I doubt Near is capable of doing what you are doing right now. I mean can the midget albino even drive? And without this step in the plan he couldn't defeat Kira. You're the reason Kira will be defeated, not because of something Near has done. L would be proud. I'm certainly proud of you." Mello bit his lip ducking his head. Matt's assertion of affirmation was overwhelming and he turned to Matt's clear jade eyes with his clouded blue ones.

"Thank you, Mattie," he said before having to return his attention to the road. He was trying not to cry. He wanted to be bold in the face of his death and Matt's; even with his time coming to an end he would be proud.

"Mells, if you start crying then I'm going to start again, and we'll be weeping like a pair of girls," Matt said trying to laugh. Mello also attempted a weak laugh even as his eyes began to fill with tears.

"I'm sorry, Mail," he said "I'm so sorry you were killed," the first glistening orbs of tears slid down his face and he tried to wipe them away before Matt could see.

"It wasn't your fault, Mihael," Matt replied watching the blond fondly.

"Matt, I-" Mello began but his sentence stopped when he felt a powerful lancing pain in his left arm that quickly migrated to his chest. For just a second his heart paused from the shock of the attack, then it stuttered and burst, like the skin of a drum being punctured. He let go of both the steering wheel and the crucifix to clutch at his chest, the agony of it engulfing his consciousness. He was barely aware of Matt screaming his name and the truck careening off the road into a brick building.

XXXX

Matt stared into the wide empty eyes of Mello's lifeless baby blues. The wispy strands of tawny hair blanketed the black of the truck's wheel and framed the pallid ethereal face. There was a morbid beauty to the scene, but the body where his best friend had once lived was now just a husk.

"In a church, Mello, you died in a fucking church."

He was crying again, large heaving sobs that caused pain where bullet holes could not. Mello's soul was gone; it had left this realm to where Matt would never see it or feel it again. Death had eternally separated them.

Matt couldn't feel it, but he could see his ghostly form beginning to evaporate like the stars in sunrise, as it was his turn to venture to other dimensions.

"I love you, Mihael Keehl," he whispered, before he disappeared with the dawn.


End file.
